


Make-Believe

by raisedtokeepquiet



Category: Eurovision Song Contest RPF, Festival di Sanremo RPF
Genre: Fake/Pretend Relationship, How Do I Tag, M/M, Strangers to Friends to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-08-28
Packaged: 2020-06-28 16:39:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19816267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raisedtokeepquiet/pseuds/raisedtokeepquiet
Summary: As Ermal is staring at this very handsome man in a bar, he realizes that the man might need some help. Things don't quite go as planned, but he ends up really needing Ermal's help... By pretending they're together.





	1. Chapter 1

Marco and Ermal had been in the bar for about a quarter of an hour. It was their usual bar, their usual table. It was a usual night. They sipped their drinks, the room was busy with a buzz of talking, laughter, the clang of glasses and with some notes of the music playing coming through. Andrea joined them, but Ermal didn't pay him much attention. He was busy. He also missed the look that Marco and Andrea exchanged.

"He's been like this since we came in," Marco sighed, glad that Andrea was here now too, so he could share in the misery.

"It really is pathetic," Andrea said, smiling and with a fond expression on his face as he looked at Ermal. "Don't you agree, Ermal?"

"Hmm? Yes, of course, you're totally right," Ermal said mindlessly, not taking his eyes of the man he was looking at as he sipped his beer.

The thunderous laughs of both his friends and the hand that clapped his shoulders got him out of the trance he was in.

"What? What happened?"

"You should go over. Talk to him," Marco suggested, ignoring the question, but repeating what he said every night they were out to the bar. And during the day occasionally, when Ermal's eyes glazed over and revealed his thoughts.

Ermal ignored him, as he did every night, and every day, and focused his attention back on the man. Something was not quite right tonight. There was this guy next to him, but not one of his usual friends. The man didn't look happy at all to see him, not looking at him and pulling his arm away when the guy leaned in to touch him. He looked past him, only giving the briefest of nods when the guy stopped his incessant chatter, after which it picked up again. It was clear he didn’t want the guy there, but he wasn’t taking any of the hints. 

Ermal could do something. He could make sure the guy left the man alone.

"I'm going over," Ermal announced, interrupting whatever story Andrea was telling.

"You're what?!"

"Look, he doesn't seem to be very happy with the attention. I'll go help."

Marco and Andrea looked for a second at the man Ermal had spent so many hours and hours staring at, before Marco had the presence of mind to say, "Ermal, no, wait, what do you mean  _ help _ ?", but it was already too late, Ermal was weaving his way through the people.

He popped up next to the handsome man with the sweetest smile on his face, placing a hand lightly on the man's arm. He could show that this unwelcome person was exactly that, unwelcome. 

“Hello. Did you miss me?” 

He turned to look at the handsome guy next to him, who seemed a bit frozen. 

In his eyes, Ermal tried to put the question whether this was okay at all, if the man was okay, as well as a silent request to play along. He hoped the man would be able to read that message, though he knew how hard it was to read an unfamiliar person's eyes. He himself had rather trouble with that, staring in the man's, seeing them now for the first time from so up close, getting lost in them, but not finding any answers. 

Well, he was too far in already. To hell with it.

"Are you going to introduce me to your friend, dear?"

The man stared at him for a second longer, eyes still guarded. He seemed to pick up on the scheme quite quickly, though it was hard to tell what he thought of it.

"Of course, love. This is Sergio, my colleague." His voice was low, and despite his concentration on the situation, Ermal felt a shiver run down his back. - Wait, colleague? He clearly didn’t behave like a mere colleague.

There was a silence now, that Ermal rushed to fill before he had to find out how well the man next to him could actually improvise, and Ermal swiftly followed the introduction with his own.

"Hi. Nice to meet you, I'm Ermal." 

Sergio looked between them for a second, his fingers drumming nonchalantly on his glass.

"Well, well, you never said you had a partner!" 

"I don't have to tell you everything, do I?" Fabrizio shot back, the annoyance clear in his voice. Ermal hoped it was directed at Sergio, and not at him.

"Of course not, of course not, I'm just surprised. How nice that is!”

He stood there for a second longer, a bit purposeless, now that Ermal was there, and after another sip of his beer he smiled very fakely at them both, and disappeared into the crowd.

Ermal let go of the man’s arm with a mumbled excuse. He just wanted to ask if everything was okay, before the man beat him to it.

“What was the point of that?”

Maybe that annoyance was in fact directed at Ermal, because the man really didn’t seem to be too happy.

“It didn’t look like he was going to leave you alone, so I thought I’d-” 

“Hmpfh,” drowned out Ermal’s reasons, and the man put his bottle of beer to his lips, finishing it in a gulp. He put it down on the table with a clang. “That really wasn’t necessary.”

Ermal nodded only, not sure what to say to that, it had happened, it was a decision he’d made, and there was nothing he could do about it now. His mind worked hard to find some topic to talk about, he had to start a conversation. He couldn’t just go now, the guy might be lingering somewhere, watching them.

"So you work with him?" he asked finally.

"Yes. Not closely, but close enough. This will spread," he answered shortly, not looking happy about it.

"Ah. What is it that you do?"

"Office job. Management. Boring," was all the answer Ermal got. He wouldn't have thought it, when he saw him. He had expected something unique, something cool. Parachutist. Professional motor racer. Rock star. But not a boring office job, maybe appearances were misleading after all.

"I'm a translator," he offered, when no question came, "Working for the newspaper now."

There was nothing but silence.

"You could put in a bit more effort, you know," Ermal grumbled. He had only been trying to help.

"Effort into what? I didn't ask you to come talk to me. I didn't ask you to start this ridiculous theater show."

"Well, the show has started nonetheless, and I guess you might want to give Mr High Hopes a bit less fuel for his hopes by not looking like we're breaking up."

"We aren't even together!"

Ermal pressed his lips together, not wanting to start a fight.

"I'll get us a drink."

A break would be good. For both of them. As he got up to the bar to ask for two more beers - no, he hadn't memorised the guy's usual order, that was just good luck guessing - he caught Andrea's eye across the room. Andrea gave him a thumbs up with a smile, and Ermal could only grimace. If only it had gone well.

"Here. I'm sorry, I only meant to help," Ermal said when he made it back, putting the bottle on the table, and sipping from his own. 

Now what? This hadn't gone the way he had hoped it would, not in the least. It was a pity, but this was clearly not to be. He’d better leave with some of dignity intact.

"Well, then, I'll just..." he started, shuffling his feet awkwardly away from this man, even after all this he didn't know his name.

"I didn't mean to start trouble in paradise! I'll see you on Monday then, Fabrizio!"

Oh god, Sergio was back, and despite his words he seemed to have no intention of leaving.

Ermal stared at the table, unable to move. He couldn't stay, but he couldn't go like this, not when he had started this.

"We're not - there's no..." he started, mumbling, his earlier confidence quite gone. A smirk started on the guy's face as he took them in.

Before he could open his mouth, the man - Fabrizio then? Ermal knew a name now, though it hadn't been offered to him - the man moved, stepping towards Ermal and putting his arm around his waist, pulling him closer with a warm hand that burned through Ermal’s shirt.

"There's no trouble in paradise, least of all on your account. I'll see you Monday, Sergio." Fabrizio's voice was cool, clearly dismissive, and it seemed that for once Sergio got the hint, or just decided to take it this time. He nodded at them, the smirk never completely gone, and then turned.

Both Ermal and Fabrizio watched him until he had disappeared through the doors. As soon as he did, Fabrizio dropped his arm, stepping away from Ermal.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, before putting the bottle to his lips again, as if that would save his evening.

Ermal tried not to stare at the sight, shaking his head before he could answer. "I started this, I should see it through."

Fabrizio only grunted non-committaly, and Ermal again was left wondering if he shouldn't just go. But now he was finally here, after weeks of staring... Finally he had a chance of at least getting to know the guy. Maybe he should continue, the way it was going it was a great way to get over this ridiculous crush.

"I'm Ermal. And I'm sorry," he tried again.

"So you said," he got in return, and Ermal was ready to turn and go at that tone, but it was followed by a softer, "I'm Fabrizio," that made him stay.

"Thanks for helping, I guess, though I'm not sure you didn't make it worse," Fabrizio continued.

Ermal stared at the bottle in front of him, peeling at the label.

"He looked quite annoying."

"Because he  _ is _ annoying. I could handle it."

"Right." 

Ermal should just go. Sergio had left, and there was nothing else to do for him here. Once more, he was about to leave Fabrizio here, a chance lost, a hope to get over, but again he was stopped by a voice next to him.

"Aren't you going to introduce us to your new friend, Erm?"

Ermal grit his teeth. Couldn't Marco and Andrea have stayed put for five more minutes? And that phrasing was now just jarring, echoing his own words that had started all this. 

"No, I'm not, this was a mistake."

At that, Marco's eyes flickered to his face, trying to read his expression. "Ermal?"

Ermal shook his head, "I shouldn't have..." he muttered, feeling Marco's hand on his arm, so different from how his own gesture had been. This was not possessive and flirty, but familiar and comforting, and exactly what he needed. He sighed once, avoiding Marco's eyes as he stared at him.

"Hello, I'm Fabrizio. I like your shirt, that's a great band," it sounded in the silence that hung between them, such a contrast to the loud room around them. When Ermal looked up, he saw Andrea shaking Fabrizio's offered hand in a reflex, his eyes darting between the man it was attached to and Ermal, clearly wondering if he should at all. Eventually politeness won the battle, though Ermal could hear the guardedness in his voice.

"Thank you. I'm Andrea."

Fabrizio turned to Marco next, and also Marco returned the introduction, politely, but wary. 

There was another brief moment where no one said anything, in which all of them were no doubt wondering what to do next. 

"Would you like something to drink?" 

Without waiting for a response, Fabrizio stepped over to the bar, leaving the three of them at the table. 

"What happened, Ermal?" Marco asked him. "He seems nice."

Ermal only nodded. How could he explain what happened? Yes, Fabrizio now seemed nice, and he was confused. What  _ was _ happening? Where was this coming from? 

Before he had a chance to say anything, Fabrizio was back, carrying the drinks, a mix of beers and cokes. He put them down on the table, and then twirled a lock of his hair around, a gesture that Ermal had found particularly endearing before, and that hadn't lost its charm now, it seemed. 

"I didn't know what you were drinking... Or if you're still driving," Fabrizio explained a little sheepishly into the silence, waving at the drinks on the table. 

"Thank you," Marco said, sincerely, not quite sure what was going on yet, but not worried enough to get Ermal out of there. He was rather intrigued, he had to admit, but promised himself he would keep an eye on his friend. 

Ermal took one of the cokes, maybe it would clear his head a little. The last thing he needed was added confusion from the alcohol. 

He stood there, elbows leaning on the table, listening to the conversation that had started around him. They were discussing music, a topic that would usually have him involved, but now Ermal kept quiet. Maybe he was just more comfortable with observing than anything else, after the past few weeks of doing only that. At least Fabrizio's tastes were good, that was a discovery he made. 

Slowly, though, as time passed and with the help of Marco and Andrea, Ermal took part more and more in the conversation. There were opinions to give, jokes to make, and ways to annoy his friends. He couldn't let those go all night. 

So it was at the next round of drinks, supplied by Andrea, that Ermal felt like himself again, and he could start to enjoy the turn the evening had taken. He was talking to this man he'd been staring at for weeks, finally, it was almost like a dream come true (in fact, it was a dream come true. One of them, at least). 

He enjoyed the anecdotes Fabrizio was telling. He enjoyed his soundless laughter at his jokes. He enjoyed Fabrizio's attention on him, but also on his friends. Ermal was in nice company, and he enjoyed himself. 

Time flew by, until it was time to go, until it was  _ really _ time to go. There was a split second decision in Ermal's mind, but the favour fell to being reckless one more time tonight. He had survived the first time. 

He got out a pen from his pocket and pulled a coaster towards him. He scribbled down his name, his number, before sliding it to Fabrizio.

"Maybe call me sometime? I'd like that."

He stood there a bit indecisively, not sure if he should wait for Fabrizio to formulate an answer, or just go and have the last word. 

Andrea's "Ermal, come  _ on _ !" decided that for him, and he hurried off, with a last glance at Fabrizio, who watched him go. 

Of course, Ermal wasn't glued to his phone, waiting for it to signal a phone call, or maybe just a message, one from an unknown number. He wasn't paying any attention to how it didn't ring, of course not.

Two days passed, then five. A week. A few days more, and Ermal’s hopes slowly died out. Even if he’d wanted to play hard to get, Fabrizio would have called by now, right?

Well, that was that. That put an end to weeks of staring at a man in a bar, they'd had a slightly strange but overall nice evening together, and that would be all. 

Now, Ermal wouldn’t be staring at the man in the bar anymore. He was over it, quite over it. 

"Ermal, are you sure you don't want to come with?" Marco asked the question for the fourth time now. 

"Yes, I'm sure. I'll just stay in tonight." He said it with an almost reassuring smile that let some alarm bells go off in Marco's head. 

"You haven't come with us to the bar since..." He trailed off diplomatically. 

"It has nothing to do with that!" 

"So you also wouldn't come if we were to go somewhere else? Or hang out at Andrea's place?" 

Ermal swallowed. "No. Calm night in. Just what I need." 

Marco nodded slowly, clearly not happy with the answer, but powerless for now. 

"Well, call us if you change your mind."

After that, Ermal had been invited to movie nights at Andrea's place, dinners that extended into the evening at Marco’s, and he knew what his friends were doing, filling up his empty nights. He appreciated it, because no matter what he said, he didn't necessarily want to sit home alone, he just didn't want to go back to the bar either. 

Those nights had been fun. He was okay. He was moving on from that silly crush. He had quite forgotten Fabrizio and any hopes that had once hung around him. Yes. 

It was therefore rather mindlessly that he answered the call from an unknown number that popped up on his phone one evening. Only when the last vowel of the "pronto" had left his lips, did Ermal realize this was something he had been waiting for. 

But surely it wouldn't. 

Would it? 

"Hello." A cleared throat. "Hi. Um. This is Fabrizio. From the bar. I don't know if you remember me, it's been some time. Um, you -" 

"Fabrizio. I remember." How often did he think Ermal pretended to be someone's boyfriend  _ and _ stuck around long enough to hand out his number? 

"Right. That's good."

Ermal just waited, not sure what to say. Surely Fabrizio had a point he wanted to make, calling him, now after so many days had passed. 

"I need your help." 

"My help?" 

"I've got this thing from work coming up, you know, one of those social things. Partners are invited and all that." 

A strange feeling settled in Ermal's stomach. He could guess where this was going. 

"And?" he asked carefully. 

"Sergio and now others too are rather insistent I should bring... Well, you. I didn't really correct their assumptions and now... Could you please come with me?" 

Ermal closed his eyes, pressing the phone against his ear. This wasn't what he meant when he told Fabrizio to call him, but it was a grave he'd dug himself, he supposed. 

"When and what is this?" he stalled, though he knew he would probably say yes. He had gotten them in this mess, and now he had to live with the consequences.

He jotted down the details on some scrap paper, noticing the date was still some weeks away. 

There was silence now, only Fabrizio's breathing coming through the phone. 

"So…" Ermal started, trailing off. Saying it out loud would make it real in a way it wasn't now, though both of them knew what they meant with all the general terms they were using. 

"So?"

"So, just to be clear, we will pretend to be together because that's what your colleagues think?"

There was a heartbeat of silence where the words seemed to echo. 

"Yeah. Yes, that's it." 

"Would it… Wouldn't it maybe be a good idea to meet before? To talk it over? To get to know each other a little so we can try to pull it off?" Ermal suggested hesitatingly. He knew Fabrizio didn't want to get to know him, not really, all those evenings with no phone calls had made that clear, but this was something Ermal couldn't just jump in without knowing a few things about the man he was supposed to be in love with. 

"I suppose that’s a good idea, yeah,” Fabrizio answered, though it didn’t sound too enthusiastic.

Ermal ignored it, soldiering on and proposing a date and a time, which Fabrizio agreed to quite easily. They hung up then, and Ermal stared at his phone, rather wondering what he had gotten himself into, that night in the bar.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A decision has been made, and now Ermal and Fabrizio have to try to make it work. Luckily there is some time left. Will it be enough to get to know each other at all or is this whole plan doomed to fail?

When Marco had asked him that Saturday if he wanted to join him in the park for some gelato, Ermal had to tell him no. That, of course, inevitably led to the question what he was doing then instead.

"I'm meeting someone for coffee," he answered vaguely, hoping Marco wouldn't push it, but knowing that he would. 

Marco didn't even have to say anything, his look was enough to make Ermal spill the truth. 

"I'm meeting Fabrizio for coffee," he sighed. "He called eventually." 

"You don't seem so happy about it," Marco observed. 

"Hmm." 

"What happened, Ermal? You don't have to meet him if you don't want to." 

Ermal let out a dry chuckle. "Oh, I want to, he just doesn't. He only needs my help to pretend we are together at this work social he has."

It took a second, but then understanding flickered in Marco's eyes. 

"Ah." 

"Yes. So I have to go, it was my fault that those colleagues think that we’re together in the first place." 

There was nothing more to say, and Marco let Ermal go, watching him, a little worried about his friend. This whole situation was possibly going to break his heart.

It had been a good idea to avoid the bar for all that time. That's what Ermal realized when he entered the cafe and laid his eyes on Fabrizio again. His heart started thumping loudly and there was a flutter in his stomach. He ignored it both, and slid into the chair opposite Fabrizio. 

"Hi," he muttered, not meeting Fabrizio’s eyes.

“It’s good you’re here.”

At that, Ermal did look up, because was that something almost like relief in Fabrizio’s voice?

The waitress was there to take their order, distracting him before he could analyse it further. When she left, Fabrizio had turned to staring out of the window, to the street where people hurried past. He didn’t say anything, he almost ignored Ermal, and it was as if he didn’t want to be here at all.

Ermal took the opportunity to stare at him, now from so much closer and in such a different light than all those weeks that had passed. It didn't change the opinion he had formed based on that staring in the slightest, Fabrizio was so  _ handsome.  _ Ermal could look at this for hours and not get bored. 

His hours were sadly interrupted by the return of the waitress who now brought their coffee. Fabrizio stopped his inspection of the world outside to add some sugar to his coffee, stirring it until it dissolved, while Ermal breathed in the smell of his own cup and tried to shake himself out of the trance he'd been in. 

It would be best to start with what they had planned this meeting for in the first place, and that hadn't been staring at various entities and drinking coffee in silence. They had a goal, and it needed some effort now if they were going to make it.

"So, tell me a bit about yourself?" Ermal started, as he wrapped his hands around the coffee mug that was a little too hot for that. 

Fabrizio's answer followed quickly, as if all he been waiting for was for Ermal to breach the topic. 

"Well, I work in management, as you know. I have two children. Me and my ex, we're still close. I try to see them often."

He paused, apparently already finished with providing information about himself. Ermal attempted to fill the silence.

"And I am okay with that?" 

There was a silence between them as Fabrizio fixed his gaze on Ermal, narrowing his eyes ever so slightly. 

"I don't know, are you?" 

Why did this conversation feel like a minefield? It had barely started. 

"I just meant, should I pretend to have issues with that or not? I would assume you wouldn't date anyone who didn't like that, but I wondered. What do your colleagues think? What did you tell them about me?" 

"I told them very little. Because I know very little."

A minefield for sure, though Ermal could feel the tension rising in himself too. This was so frustrating. 

"And that's exactly what we're trying to change right now," he said with a sigh. 

"So you tell me about yourself." 

Ermal did, sticking to the basics and dry facts, talking about his family and his work, mentioning his hobbies and his friends. He tried to be at least a bit more engaging than Fabrizio had been, and more informative.

Fabrizio didn’t interrupt him, and when Ermal fell silent, he didn’t ask any questions. He just finished his coffee, and for a second, Ermal thought that that was it, that Fabrizio would get up and go now, having fulfilled the bare minimum of Ermal’s request. But no, he stayed seated, toying with the cup, but still not saying anything. It seemed to be up to Ermal again, to keep this conversation from dying a painful death, and to prepare them both a little bit better.

“You mentioned you have children? How old are they?”

It apparently was the right question to ask, as for the first time, Fabrizio spoke freely, he was almost gushing about his children, Libero, a boy of nine years old, and Anita, a girl of five. There was a sparkle in Fabrizio's eyes that captured Ermal's gaze when he met them, and it was clear how much he loved them. 

Something settled in Ermal's chest, some uncertainty that now vanished, some unconscious worry that was now lessened, making space for a trust in Fabrizio that could now slowly start to grow. He still didn’t know much about Fabrizio, but this was information that was good to have.

"I can show you pictures of them!" Fabrizio said, more enthusiastically than anything Ermal had heard him say so far, his hand already reaching for his phone, until he froze, and the faintest hint of red flushed his cheeks. "I mean, I could. I don't have to. Let's not." 

"I'd love to see pictures, if you'd let me," Ermal said softly, putting a calm sincerity in his voice. 

Fabrizio looked at him for a moment, assessing, before nodding mostly to himself, and opening his picture gallery. He started much more subdued than he'd been before, but as the pictures kept changing, he regained his previous excitement. 

Ermal looked at the pictures, yes, but he mostly looked at Fabrizio, at the way he recounted memories and the way he smiled, the briefest of pauses as he took in a new picture of his children, before he realized he should tell something about it. 

It was almost a shame when Fabrizio closed the app and locked the screen, Ermal wouldn't have minded a bit more of this. Fabrizio looked at him now, a blush creeping up his cheeks.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bore you." 

"Don't worry, you didn't."

Ermal was thinking about another topic to start, now that the atmosphere between them was so much better, he tried to think of what he would like to know, but before he could decide on what to say, Fabrizio beat him to it. Not with something helpful to keep the conversation going though, no.

“I’ll be back in a second,” he said, and made his way to the bathrooms.

Ermal was left at the table, toying with the empty coffee cup, sighing once. He waited patiently for Fabrizio to return, only to find that when he did, also the earlier closedness had come back with him. Any questions Ermal asked were answered in monosyllabic replies, and none asked in return.

Ermal sat back in his chair a bit defeatedly. Right when he thought they had built some stable base, a good starting point for getting to know each other better, without treading on any of the mines of earlier, now they were back without seemingly any connection between them.

It continued like that, until Ermal had realized that at least today there was nothing left to save. Still, there had been something, some small spark of possibility. He had to believe that that would be enough. Finally, ending a silence in which neither of them were looking at each other, Fabrizio said he needed to leave.

“I have to pick up the children, I really have to go. But I’ll let you know the details!”

He fished some coins out of his jeans' pocket to pay for the coffee and put them on the table, before rushing out, leaving Ermal to stare at his back disappearing between the people in the street. 

Slowly, he put on his jacket and added his own money to the pile, smiling at the waitress who came to collect it. He couldn’t say a tiny part of him wasn’t relieved that it was over, it had just gotten more awkward by the second in the end, but he had hoped it would have gone better than this.

He sighed, and as he walked home through the busy streets, he wondered what today had really brought him. Yes, he knew a little bit more about Fabrizio, but he mostly knew about his children, and how was that going to help him at that work social? How on earth were they going to convincingly pretend they knew each other at all? 

In the days that followed, it seemed Fabrizio came to a similar conclusion. His first texts were very short and to the point, giving more details on the event Ermal would be going to. 

“It’s outside town, in a  _ castle _ , can you believe that?" Ermal told Andrea and Marco, who patiently listened to him go on and on about this."There’ll be a dinner first, and then they booked rooms so we can stay the night, it’s crazy!” 

“He didn’t tell me all that when he first called me! A  _ castle _ ! What kind of boring office job comes with perks like that?  _ Castles _ !” It seemed such a big and fancy thing, nothing like the modest work social Fabrizio had first implied it would be. And Ermal would now be there, an intruder, with only the flimsiest of alibis, that relied completely on how well he and Fabrizio could convince the others they were together. His nerves were rising by the day.

“Yes, Ermal, we know, and it will be fine. You should enjoy it while you’re there,” Andrea sighed, eating his pasta. “But how do you now feel about Fabrizio?”

Even despite everything going on, that question was enough to make Ermal stare into space with a dreamy look in his eyes. Andrea’s and Marco’s gazes met, until Marco carefully asked, “Ermal? Will you be okay, pretending like this? We don’t want you hurt, and you’re more important than his image at work.”

Ermal shook his head at that. "No, it will be fine. We'll just go our separate ways after this, and I'll forget him." He had gotten quite good at lying to himself. 

Others were not so easily convinced, but chose to let it be for now. Ermal’s mind was hard to change once it had been made up.

“Well, call us if you want to leave, okay? Even if it’s a castle outside the city, we’ll come pick you up, Cinderella. Also past midnight.”

Ermal nodded gratefully at his friends, before forcing the topic of conversation to something else, anything else, though it was hard to keep his thoughts from wandering back to Fabrizio and the castle.

So, those were Fabrizio's first texts, trickling more information on what Ermal had to expect, dress codes and what to pack, some agreements on being picked up, times and places. 

It started like that, but after that came the questions. They started out inconspicuous enough. Did Ermal have any allergies, or any dietary restrictions? Fabrizio had to pass the information on to catering. He had excuses for those questions, they were necessary for the event’s preparations.

Quickly though, they turned into more personal questions, questions that had nothing to do with any preparation but their own, the preparation of trying to pull off this whole stunt. Favourite dishes, favourite flowers, daily routines, birthdays, family members, sports and movies and music, these and a hundred other topics passed by in the messages. Fabrizio even volunteered answers to his questions, and Ermal dared to ask his own. 

Soon, Ermal started to feel like Fabrizio was one of his friends, one of the people always at the top of his contacts list, who he could text if something happened in his day, who would want to know about it. It was strange how fast that had happened, but he was glad that they had found a way to communicate that seemed to work, especially now the date of the event was coming closer. 

Each night, Ermal could feel the weight of it hanging over him, knew that when he went to sleep, waking up would mean it was one day closer. He put off going to sleep, though it wouldn't work to his advantage in the long run. 

He wasn't the only one in a nervous state. With only three days to spare, Fabrizio texted him more than ever, empty little messages or repetitions of information long since conveyed, panicked questions about details that surely would not come up in any conversation. It wasn't so very surprising, then, maybe, that he called Ermal in the evening, with the question to meet and go over some last things the following day. 

Ermal couldn't refuse, not even if he wanted to, this was the last perfect opportunity they had to also reach some sort of friendship in person, like they had in texts, before being thrown to the wolves. 

As the weather was good, and Fabrizio seemed particularly fidgety, not in any state to be cooped up inside, they got some coffee to go, and then walked the lanes of a park nearby, occasionally sitting down on a bench until being still and sedentary was too much. 

To his relief, Ermal found that the texts had helped. There seemed less distance between them, Fabrizio much more cooperative than he had before. He didn't radiate the closed-offness he had on their previous meetings, and Ermal now could interpret the things he said better to avoid misunderstandings. He had some idea of what Fabrizio was like now, and it helped.

"What did you want to talk about?" he asked finally, trying to come to the point, as they sat on a bench, sipping coffee, and watching a dog chasing a ball on the field they were facing. 

Fabrizio's answer took some time coming, and when Ermal looked at him, his cheeks were red.

"If we're doing what we're doing… Shouldn't we make some… Decisions?" 

"Decisions?" 

The colour of Fabrizio’s cheeks intensified. 

"Well, I mean, what story are we going to tell people? They will ask, right? How we met and things like that. And we have to  _ look _ like we're in love." 

Fabrizio exchanged his coffee for a cigarette, his drags deep and desperate. Ermal had to suppress a smile, it was somehow quite endearing to see Fabrizio this flustered. 

"I thought I could be your children's piano teacher. Or do you think that's too cliché?" 

Fabrizio thought about it for a second, winning time through both the cigarette and the coffee, but then nodded. "It's better than a bar or something like that." 

"Who asked out who? First date?" Ermal continued, causing Fabrizio's slightly relaxed posture to tense up again. 

"Um," was all he answered. 

"I thought I could have asked you out? And then the first date could have been this Albanian restaurant I know. What do you say?" 

Fabrizio nodded, and Ermal continued, now with a slightly evil smile on his lips. 

"Did you kiss me?" 

Fabrizio almost choked on the sip of coffee he just had taken, and coughed before he managed, "Did I  _ what _ ?" 

"Kiss me. You know, first date and all. Did you?" 

"Yes, I guess I did," Fabrizio grumbled. 

"Lovely! Now, what's next?" 

What was next was another stroll before settling down on another bench. 

"That was something else you mentioned, right?" Ermal continued the line of conversation of before. If Fabrizio wanted to discuss this, so they would. And if he didn't take the lead, Ermal would just have the upper hand. He didn’t mind that. "You said that we have to look like we're in love.”

Fabrizio coughed again. “Well, we should, people expect…” He trailed off, seemingly unable to finish the thought.

Ermal had to smile. He really hadn’t expected to find Fabrizio so easily embarrassed. It didn’t seem to fit him, which made it all the more intriguing, and all the more tempting to try and bring out that side of him.

“We can be one of those couples who aren’t all over each other all the time. - Wait, or are you one of those awfully clingy people, and do your colleagues know that?”

“What? No, wait. I’m not -” Fabrizio spluttered, until Ermal took pity on him.

“No, I’m kidding. It’s a formal event, right? So it will be fine. I can just hang off of your arm like I did before, you know, with Sergio, if you don’t mind that. And look at you like I’m in love. That should go a long way.”

Fabrizio again just nodded, staring in the distance, seemingly still occupied by worries, and Ermal hoped that the blush on his cheeks hadn't become permanent. Though, if it had, it did look rather cute. 

"I'm afraid I have to draw the line at kissing," he tried to lighten the mood a little, "First the Albanian restaurant, then kissing. In that order."

It took a brief silence to pull himself together and a cleared throat, but then Fabrizio looked up at Ermal. “That’s a promise.” He tried to make it light, but it fell rather flat. 

"Hey, it will be okay, don't worry so much," Ermal said, putting his hand on Fabrizio's arm. He had meant it just supportive, like he would do with any of his friends, but as Fabrizio focused his eyes on it, it crossed Ermal's mind what this would look like, after his words earlier. He took his hand back, burying it under his arm, and cleared his throat. 

"Um. I mean, we'll do our best and then we'll never have to see each other again."

"But I -" Fabrizio started, only to be interrupted by his phone going off. A grimace flashed over his face, but he rummaged through his pockets to answer it anyway.

He got up, pacing back and forth in front of the bench as he talked. It was a short conversation, in which he didn't say much more than some yeses and nos, before hanging up again. 

"I'm sorry, where were we?" he asked, turning back to Ermal, but not sitting down again. 

"I was just telling you not to worry." 

"Right. I'll try. Listen, I'm afraid I have to go soon, is there anything else we should discuss?" 

Ermal thought for a second. They really had covered all the important bits. The rest would be up to improvisation skills. There was nothing else they could do now. 

"I think this is it. But you can always text me, if there is something else." 

Fabrizio nodded. "Okay, then I'll see you the day after tomorrow. And thank you, Ermal." 

Ermal, once more, watched him go, still seated on the bench. At least this had gone better than their other meeting. At least this time they had gotten somewhere. And at least now he had the feeling that they might even be able to make this work, that they might even be able to convince Fabrizio’s colleagues that they were together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I'm curious about your thoughts, please leave me a comment? :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The evening is finally here, Fabrizio's work event where Ermal will be such an unexpected guest. How will it go? Are they prepared well enough? Will the night have any surprises in store?

Ermal stopped his pacing when finally the doorbell rang. He had been ready for almost half an hour now, clearly overestimating the time he’d need to prepare, and then he hadn’t wanted to sit down, so as not to crease his suit too much. He knew it was ridiculous, he would spend a good part of an hour in a car, so there would be inevitable creases, but he wanted to show Fabrizio he was making an effort.

He hastened to the door, opening it to Fabrizio, and then stopped to stare. 

He maybe should have thought of this before. He knew this was a fancy event. He knew that entailed a suit and some preparation to be up to standards. He only should have realized what it  _ meant _ . 

It meant Fabrizio in a suit. It meant Fabrizio with his hair combed. It meant him looking better than Ermal had seen him before. 

It meant him tugging slightly uncomfortably at his sleeves. 

"Are you ready? Do you have your things? The car isn't really parked properly, we should go back to it…"

He glanced shyly up at Ermal, before looking away again. Ermal could only nod, his mouth dry, and turned to grab the bag he had packed. 

Once at the car, Fabrizio took the bag from him to put it in the trunk and they got in. 

"You look nice," he muttered, eyes on the road, and not looking at Ermal at all. 

Before Ermal could do so much as thank him or return the compliment, Fabrizio coughed and continued, "Do you think we're ready?" 

"As ready as we'll ever be." 

The car ride was filled with silence, broken only by the navigation system giving its instructions for Fabrizio to follow. At least it wasn't an uncomfortable silence, but Ermal still tried to find something to talk about. Tried, and failed, because he didn't have a clue what. Should he just make empty small talk? Ask last minute questions to prepare? The first was strange somehow and the second would only make his nerves rise. 

It seemed Fabrizio had similar issues, because he too was quiet, and eventually turned on the radio, his fingers drumming along on the steering wheel to the music. 

Finally, they turned a last corner, and the navigation declared they had reached their destination. Fabrizio parked and turned off the engine, and both sat in silence for a minute, taking in the cars around them and the lights guiding the way to the castle. 

This was where it would start. As soon as they got out of the car, everything would be just an act. 

"Thank you," Fabrizio broke the silence. "I know you don't think you had a choice, but you did. You could have said no. So thank you, for not doing that." 

He offered Ermal an insufficient two seconds to formulate an answer, before he sighed. 

"Okay, let's go." 

They got out of the car, each getting their bag, and then walked the lit path towards the entrance.

Ermal took his time to glance around and take in his surroundings. He didn't want to look completely starstruck, not if this was apparently something to be expected from hanging out with Fabrizio. But still, a castle! 

The path took them closer to the building, that was lit to its best advantage. The outer parts were covered in ivy, which curved around large windows, while the old stone walls were visible in the middle. It was hard to tell how old the castle was, with all the changes and additions through the years. What also made it difficult were the tasteful party decorations and lights. Still, the building gave off an imposing vibe. 

The lit road they walked wound between some trees, but they approached the doors now, some people lingering outside for a last cigarette. Fabrizio was a polite distance away from him, and Ermal knew it wouldn't do. This had begun when they had reached the parking lot, not when they would enter the building. They had to convince people now, and first impressions would be vital. 

So he decided to just go for it. He had promised Fabrizio he would hang off of his arm to look in love, and that's exactly what he did. He wove their arms together, stepping close to Fabrizio, leaning into his side just a little. 

Fabrizio tensed up at first, the rhythm in his step faltering, before he relaxed into Ermal's touch. That was how they reached the entrance, and after joining a short queue, Fabrizio gave their names. They were told they could leave their bags, those would be brought to their room. They were handed the key, and then ushered on to the next room, which was quite full of people already, and where they could wait until dinner would start. 

Ermal took in the room, the people mingling there. It was already quite full, and the dark suits and fancy dresses made it seem even more crowded. This really wasn’t what Fabrizio had first made it sound like.

He got offered a drink by a waiter carrying a tray around, and he tried to feel at ease. It was easier said than done, especially as he still felt like an interloper. Everyone clearly knew each other, greeting each other familiarly and asking after children and recent accomplishments. 

Fabrizio sipped his drink, still mutely, his eyes focused on the glass. Ermal got a distinct feeling that if he'd been able to find a good excuse and get his colleagues off his back wondering about his love life, Fabrizio wouldn't have been here at all. It didn't quite seem his kind of thing. 

Well, if he wasn't going to introduce Ermal to anyone, at least they had to talk. They couldn’t just stand here as if they'd just had a fight but were pretending everything was fine just for the other people. That would be sending exactly the opposite message of what they wanted. 

Ermal looked around, trying to find some topic of conversation, the drink in his hand. He studied the people, their clothes, the way they interacted. Their faces. 

And then he noticed something. 

There was a handful of faces that he knew. He knew those people, but in no way personally. He knew them in the way most of Italy knew them, from TV screens and radio waves. 

He blinked a few times, but the familiar faces didn't change, and he was convinced he wasn't mistaken. 

"Fabrizio? What exactly do you manage?" 

Fabrizio followed Ermal's gaze around the room. 

"Ah," he sighed, "Yes, some clients got an invitation too." 

Ermal stared at him a bit incredulously. Simple management job, sure. Fabrizio worked in a company that managed artists, and not the least ones, even. 

"You could have said," he muttered, taking another sip of his drink. It would have been nice to have gotten the warning at least, so he wouldn't have been staring like an idiot. 

"Then you would have been a bit more enthusiastic about this all? Meeting the famous people?" Fabrizio sounded a bit biting, and Ermal dared a short glare at him. 

"It wouldn't have changed my decisions. It would have been good to know. That's all I'm saying." 

Fabrizio didn't respond to that, and Ermal attempted to salvage the mood. 

"You said boring office job!" he said with a smile, and hoped Fabrizio wouldn't take it wrongly.

"Because it is! Most days I spend at my desk emailing and calling. It's really not as glamorous as you seem to think." There was a hint of apology in his voice, and a quick soft smile at Ermal showed he'd recognised the attempt for what it was. 

Not quite knowing why, Ermal sighed of relief, before taking Fabrizio's arm and starting a walk around the room. 

"You know, it's probably easier to convince people if we talk to them. Why don't you introduce me to some people?" he suggested. 

Fabrizio nodded, and looked around for the colleagues he worked with everyday. 

There wasn't much time to fill anymore, and only the first round of quick introductions had just finished. Soon the room fell silent as a speech was held by the director of the company to welcome them all, and then the doors to the room next door where the dinner would be held, opened. 

People shuffled in. Ermal looked around him with thinly concealed awe. The room was lit by glistening chandeliers and candles on the tables. In the corner was a bar, with next to it the doors to the kitchen. The tables were round, each seating about eight people, and the row of cutlery at each place showed there would be multiple courses. 

As slowly they made their way through the room, they found that the seats had name tags, effectively shuffling the employees of the company, so they would have a chance to get to know each other. For a heart stopping second, Ermal feared that he and Fabrizio would be sitting apart too, but of course they didn't, it wouldn't have made sense. 

After checking half the tables in the room, they finally found their seats, at a table next to the closed glass doors to a terrace outside. There was another couple already seated, and Ermal nodded at them politely. 

As the table filled up, introductions and pleasantries were exchanged. Waiters came to offer drinks once all the seats were taken, and soon the first course was brought in. 

With the food, the small talk started, and Ermal was glad to find them prepared for the questions they were asked. It was surprisingly easy to be natural about it. He could smile and he could joke, he could look at Fabrizio like he was the only person in the crowded room they were in. 

He'd just finished a story on something Fabrizio’s children had done - here all those details from that meeting in the coffee shop came in handy, and Ermal thought he was doing quite a good job of making it believable. As the chuckles around the table died out, he looked at Fabrizio, who returned his gaze with soft eyes and an almost imperceptible nod and a smile that made Ermal's heart skip. 

He needed to be careful, Marco's words of not getting hurt ringing in his ears. So Ermal focused on the food, a new course just brought in, and let others do the talking for a while. 

Apparently his silence was noticed, as Fabrizio's fingers ghosted over his hand where it lay on the table. Ermal looked up and answered the question in Fabrizio’s eyes with a smile. He then took a breath and steadied himself. He could do this. 

"Can you please pass me the water, Bizio dear?" 

Pet names. They needed pet names. As he was looking at Fabrizio, Ermal didn't miss how his eyebrows moved up ever so slightly, but he complied, reaching over to grab the bottle. He turned out to be quite good at improvising. 

"Bizio?" the woman next to them repeated, her voice confused. 

"Bizio." Resolutely, Ermal stuck another fork of the great food in his mouth - really, this dinner alone was almost worth everything. 

Between the courses, he gently played with Fabrizio's fingers, now that he apparently could. The evening got this feeling of belonging, even in the middle of this grandeur that he really wasn't used to. He didn't feel like an intruder now, he felt comfortable. He was enjoying himself. And as far as he could judge, Fabrizio was feeling more comfortable too, his nerves lessened. 

Dinner was finished with some coffee, and Ermal sat back in his chair content. The food really had been amazing, and he couldn't quite see himself getting up yet. 

He had to, though, to give the staff a chance to clean the room. There were other parts of the castle to explore. Ermal and Fabrizio wove their way through the crowd, arms linked. It was quite the same as before dinner, they occasionally stopped to talk to people or make introductions. What was different, so different, was the atmosphere between them. The nerves had for the most part gone, replaced by a comfort and an ease to be together, that Ermal had maybe hoped for, but never expected. 

Entering the next room, another one as big and impressively decorated as the others had been. This room, though, was filled with a familiar sound that wound its way to Ermal's ears through the soft buzz of conversation from the first step through the doors. 

A piano. The music vibrated through the space, and involuntarily his hold on Fabrizio's hand tightened. Ermal approached the instrument slowly, weaving through the crowd, taking Fabrizio with him. 

He had expected the piano to be played by someone hired to do exactly that, but he found that it was one of the guests who had taken a seat. The woman just finished the piece, and in the sounding applause, Fabrizio leaned to say in Ermal's ear, "Want to show what you've taught my children?" 

Ermal looked at him with a grin, their fake story not at all forgotten after telling it at dinner and during some other short conversations. 

"Can I?" Somehow that felt like too much, he wasn't supposed to be here, could he just take the spotlight like this? 

Fabrizio only nodded, and pushed him gently towards the piano. Ermal took a breath, and then settled on the piano stool, his fingers lightly brushing over the keys. He was so aware of the audience he had, people so much more capable of entertaining with their music than he was, but he would do his best. Ermal decided on some classic instrumental pieces, surely he just had to show his worth before he could disappear into the crowd again. 

When the piece was finished, Ermal looked up, and found a larger group of people focused on him than he had expected, applauding him. Ermal smiled shyly, his eyes finding Fabrizio in the crowd. Funny how despite everything he turned out to be a reassuring presence. 

"Do you sing too?" some voice asked, and he could only nod, the implied request clear. Ermal thought quickly what to play, something well known, but he wanted to make sure he didn't play anything by any of the artists who were present. 

He played another song, two more, and then the attention waned. He didn't mind, now whatever he played would fade into the background. The piano was a good one, and he enjoyed playing it. Why not play some of his own songs? Just one or two, now that no one was paying him too much mind. It was an opportunity he needed to take, or regret it forever. 

As the last note faded out, he got up, his seat replaced by someone else wanting to show off their skills, and Ermal looked around for Fabrizio. He found him standing just a little apart from the crowd, and with a smile, Ermal started to make his way over.

He didn’t quite make it. Before he reached Fabrizio, a woman in a bright green dress Ermal didn't remember meeting before came up to him. 

"You played the piano wonderfully!" she exclaimed, before rushing on. "You came with Fabrizio tonight, didn't you? It wasn't hard to guess, during the whole performance he was looking at you with the most besotted smile. You are very lucky.  _ Someone is in love! _ " she added in a stage whisper, that Ermal was sure Fabrizio had also heard. He tried not to cringe, but smile nicely instead. This was a good thing, not awkward, it meant they were doing their job right. Luckily the woman didn't care to hear an answer, but moved on to the next person to spread more dramatic observations. 

Ermal didn't want to look at Fabrizio as he approached him, and then took his hand to lead him across the room to a table with some snacks. Ermal gratefully stuffed his mouth with some no doubt expensive cheese, he would do anything to not look at Fabrizio now. He didn’t know if what the woman had said was true, but he realized he  _ wanted _ it to be true, and that was bad enough.

"Ah, Fabrizio, I'd been looking for you! How have you been?" 

Ermal turned when Fabrizio did, and looked in the face of none other than Antonello Venditti. He tried to swallow the cheese while not looking like a starstruck idiot. 

Fabrizio had no such issues, calmly chatting with the famous singer. When there was a gap after the first exchange of pleasantries, Fabrizio turned to Ermal, wrapping an arm around his waist and introducing him. 

Ermal shook Venditti's hand, a bit speechless. 

"I enjoyed your piano playing immensely," Venditti started, not helping Ermal's verbal abilities in the slightest. "Those final songs, I didn't recognize them," he continued.

"No, I wrote them myself," Ermal managed. 

"They were very good, I thought. Great work!" 

Ermal felt a blush rise up on his cheeks, and he couldn't help the proud smile on his lips. 

Venditti was about to turn away, but now that he had this chance, Ermal wasn't going to let it pass. 

"Excuse me, Mr Venditti?" he said, his voice only wavering ever so slightly. He felt Fabrizio's hand tighten a little, and he was reminded of the conversation they'd had before, about treating this as a free pass to meet celebrities. But it wasn't like that, this was an exception, something he  _ had  _ to do. 

"Antonello," the singer corrected, as he turned to Ermal with a soft smile. 

"Antonello," Ermal repeated, the name sounding strange on his lips like this. He took a deep breath before continuing. "I just want to thank you. Your music means a lot to me. When I was thirteen, I came to Italy, and your songs helped me to learn the language. So yes, thank you." 

He was shaking, he knew he was, and he knew it would be worse the moment this conversation was over and his adrenaline levels would drop. 

"Thank  _ you _ . I'm glad my music was of help to you. That's the biggest compliment a songwriter can get, to hear he made a change in someone’s life." Antonello briefly squeezed Ermal's shoulder, before adding, "I'm sure we'll meet again sometime, Ermal. And I'll see you, Fabrizio."

He did turn now, walking away to the next acquaintance he found in the room. Ermal stared at the space he just had been in, unable to comprehend that this had really happened. 

There was a restless energy in him now, making his hands shake, like he had known would happen. He was glad for the support that the arm around his waist was offering. 

"Are you alright?" Fabrizio asked, eyeing him carefully. 

Ermal nodded, not quite trusting himself to speak right now. 

Fabrizio studied him a moment longer. "Let's go outside for a cigarette." 

He led them through the crowd, occasionally nodding at someone he knew, but not stopping for conversation. 

Once outside, they leaned against the wall, the cool night air fresh on their faces. Fabrizio got out some cigarettes, and gave one to Ermal. He lit his own before passing the lighter on. 

Ermal tried to light his cigarette, but his hands were still shaking and the flame died on the lighter without reaching the cigarette attempt after attempt. 

"Let me," Fabrizio said, and gently took the lighter from Ermal, his fingers accidentally brushing over Ermal's, lighting his cigarette. 

"Thank you," Ermal muttered. Being outside helped, as did the smoke in his lungs, and he started to feel a bit more calm, the sudden rush of nerves subsiding. 

"I agree, you know," Fabrizio suddenly said. Ermal could only look at him, wondering what he meant. 

"Those songs, they were really good."

The blush on Ermal's cheeks was back. "Thank you," he mumbled again, his vocabulary apparently reduced to that. Fabrizio's praise reminded him of what the woman had told him after he finished playing, though he knew it didn't mean that much. 

"Such a compliment from Venditti," he sighed, redirecting his thoughts, settling on other praise that was so unexpected and that would play through his mind for time to come. 

"Antonello," Fabrizio corrected, with a cheeky smile, but his eyes shined with a sincere joy for Ermal. "I'm sorry about what I implied, before. I'm glad you could tell him your story,” he added softly.

Ermal smiled at him. Maybe one day he could tell Fabrizio more about it. Maybe they would stay in contact after this. 

But then, maybe not. 

"Shall we go back?" 

"Do you feel better?" 

Ermal nodded, and he couldn't stop himself from pulling Fabrizio into a quick grateful hug - the words "thank you" would lose any meaning if he said them again - and was quick to let go again. Then he led Fabrizio back inside, taking his hand, the contact so inconspicuous tonight. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked the chapter :) I'd love to hear your thoughts in a comment!  
> And yes, chapter count updated :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night is not quite over yet, but it will soon be. Will it lead to anything that's not just play pretend, or will Ermal and Fabrizio just go their separate ways in the morning?

They stood there in a corner, Ermal leaning into Fabrizio's side and sipping on another alcohol free drink. He was taking no chances, especially not so close to the end - because surely, the night must end soon, right? 

No. It didn't. The next item on what was no doubt the most well planned work social ever, was dancing. Ermal mused about the timing for a bit, until he decided that when around colleagues at an occasion like this, it would be better if inhibitions were a bit lowered, and put it at the end of the night.

Besides, so late? The only thing that mattered was that it was planned at all. 

"Shall we go dance?" he asked Fabrizio, dropping his glass off on the tray of a passing waiter, ready to go. 

"No." 

Ermal paused. "What, why not?" 

"I don't like to."

"Oh, but I do. Can't we? Please?" Ermal tried his best to imitate Andrea's puppy eyes, that always seemed to get him what he wanted. 

It didn't seem to work for him. Fabrizio just shook his head, arms now folded in front of his chest. 

"I can lead, if you don't know how," Ermal tried. 

"That's not necessary."

"Just one dance? Please? They're just starting a new song!" 

Fabrizio didn't budge, but Ermal also didn't give up. He would never again be in such a place like this, a  _ castle _ , and have a chance to dance, between all the fancy clothes. He just wanted that once. 

He stepped a little closer to the area of the room that had turned into the dance floor, managing to drag Fabrizio with him. 

"No," he grumbled again, but did he sound less resolute than before? 

“Please, Bizio?" Ermal asked, blinking his eyes from under his curls. 

He didn't think it would work, least of all with that nickname he'd thought up during dinner, but somehow he'd said a magic word, and Fabrizio let him lead him to the dance floor, albeit reluctantly. 

He found them a free space, and started counting the steps in his head, to join in with the other couples. Ermal was waiting for Fabrizio to give a sign they would start, but he didn't. He just looked a bit insecurely at his feet. 

"Shall I lead after all?" Ermal asked softly, and got a nod in return. He changed their position slightly, and picked up the count again, giving all the clues he could to Fabrizio. 

And then they danced. It wasn't perfect, but it was amazing. Fabrizio occasionally threatened to trip over his own feet or over Ermal's, but Ermal knew what he was doing well enough to keep them both going. They found a rhythm, together and with the music. Ermal hadn’t expected it, he’d just wanted to be dancing  _ here _ , but it turned out that there was so much more to it than that. Ermal loved it, twirling around the room in those predictable steps, with Fabrizio's arms around him, his eyes on him. 

Ermal had expected Fabrizio to be fidgety, after his earlier reluctance to dance, to glance left and right in a search for a distraction or an excuse to stop, to be entirely unfocused on the movements. It wasn't like that. Against all expectations, Fabrizio was concentrated, his attention on Ermal, and doing his best to keep up. 

There was something about dancing with Fabrizio that Ermal hadn’t been prepared for. Yes, he’d noticed Fabrizio’s perfume before - how could he not - but now it added something more, now it created a bubble he didn’t want to leave. It was not just the dancing itself, it was everything else. It was Fabrizio. 

Ermal had to remind him that all this was was pretending, that it wasn’t real. Yes, they were dancing, but that was where it ended. There was nothing else involved. They were here because they had to, together because they had to, and Fabrizio had no doubt realized that this was the perfect way to convince his colleagues. It didn't mean he did this because it made Ermal happy, and even less because it would make him happy, having Ermal in his arms and close to him. 

Still, no matter the reasons, they were dancing. Ermal could enjoy himself with that, and so he would.

They stayed for a second dance, despite Ermal's promises of just one, and then they added a third. At the end of that, they stood close to each other, and it was the perfect position for Ermal to reach Fabrizio's ear. 

"Thank you," he whispered, knowing Fabrizio would hear it even with the music and the crowd. He got a nod in return. They straightened up, and left the dance floor in search of a drink. 

They found themselves back in the same corner as before, carrying their glasses. They didn’t have much to say to each other, and Ermal could feel the tiredness of the day settling in, heavy with the nerves he’d had for this. Luckily he was doing exactly what he signed up for by leaning into Fabrizio’s touch, resting his head on his shoulder.

“Ermal? Get up for a second, I need to go to the bathroom.”

“Again?” Ermal grumbled, he didn’t want to move, he wanted to stay here, it was quite comfortable.

“Yes, come on.”

Reluctantly, Ermal pushed himself up to bear his own weight and let Fabrizio go, following his back as he wove through the crowd. 

If he was honest, the night was going much better than expected, especially after their awkward start. He even was enjoying himself, and his interactions with Fabrizio were, while still a bit unfamiliar, more natural than he had feared they might have been. He could be himself, which was a relief as he had prepared himself to play an exhausting act the whole night. 

"Hello, hello again!" 

Ermal blinked as he attempted to focus his tired eyes on the person belonging to the over enthusiastic voice. It sounded slightly familiar, but he couldn't place it yet. 

He could when he found the green shape in front of him. He nodded politely as he recognised the woman who came to talk to him after he played the piano, though now with a decidedly stronger, probably alcohol induced blush on her cheeks. 

"You and Fabrizio, you danced!" 

Ermal nodded again, wondering where this would lead to. 

"In all the years that I've known him, he's never danced, not once! And he's been holding out on us, the two of you looked lovely!" 

Ermal watched as she vaguely mimicked the rhythm of the dance with her head, definitely out of time. She didn't need any encouragement from him to keep talking. 

"Really, the two of you make such a nice pair, so suited for each other! And the things one does for love! Fabrizio dancing, and enjoying it, who would have thought!" 

She left him then, after that waterfall of words and Ermal sighed a sigh of relief that it was over. The sigh stocked, however, when he saw the person revealed as the swishing green dress was gone. 

Fabrizio was standing there, a blush on his face and a hand in his hair, twirling some strands in that way he had. Ermal stared at him, wondering how much he had heard. Enough, probably, with that blush. He wasn't sure why it mattered, because again, this was nothing but confirmation that their plan was working. Still, it turned some part of the air between them decidedly awkward. 

Ermal could try and make a joke out of it, but his mind came up blank. He only wanted to know if it was true, what the woman had said. Did Fabrizio really never dance? Was it really just to convince the others? Then why had he let them stay for three when one dance would have done the job? 

So he had no idea what to say, his thoughts spinning in circles. Fabrizio awkwardly cleared his throat. 

"I just saw, people are starting to leave. So we can too, it won't look strange."

Ermal nodded quickly. Yes, an end to the evening sounded great. His thoughts were too much in disarray and he was too tired to keep them in check. It would only help if he wasn't glued to Fabrizio anymore or listening to harmless but confusing speeches that sent his mind spinning. 

Together they followed the signs to the hotel part of the castle, climbing the stairs to their room. There was a silence between them, not awkward now, just silence, and Ermal didn't mind it at all. He was too tired, the weight of the evening crashing down on him now that it was over. 

Ermal waited for Fabrizio to brush his teeth and get ready, and then quickly showered, getting all of the product out of his hair. It had done its job, now he could go back to the natural soft fluffiness he was used to. He put on his pyjamas, dried his curls, and then stepped out of the bathroom into the bed, settling under the covers. Here too, the tiredness was a blessing, his mind not going to all the places it could go to, sharing a bed with Fabrizio. 

Fabrizio seemed ready to sleep, his eyes blinking lazily. Ermal turned off the light, casting the room in complete darkness, that let up a little as his eyes adjusted. 

"That went well, didn't it?" he spoke into the muted dark, softly, in case the walls around here happened to have ears. "I think everyone believed us."

"They did. I must say, it was a lot easier than I thought it would be, pretending." 

Fabrizio's voice was soft as he answered, and seemed to carry so much meaning. Ermal lay there on his back, wondering if he could read more into this. If he should. Was it just his tired mind spinning tales again?

But what if it wasn’t? It was a chance to take, yes, but he had so incredibly little to lose. After this night, all they had to do was survive a breakfast, a breakfast that they could skip if need be. They might not even see anyone, as everyone else would no doubt sleep in after the late night they'd had. And then, after an awkward ride home, he wouldn't ever talk to Fabrizio again. So what did he have to lose? 

It was the easiest thing to do, rolling over, the dip in the mattress guiding him. It was as in a dream, he found Fabrizio closer than expected, facing him, eyes gleaming, looking at him in the dark. There was a last second in which he could change his mind, though Ermal knew he wouldn't. 

Like he'd done before countless times, in dreams repeated and replayed, Ermal cupped his hand over Fabrizio's cheek, caressing it, assessing just a little, before leaning in with the lightest touch, lips to lips. 

Fabrizio's lips were soft and pliable, and he didn't pull away, but stayed close to Ermal. His lips opened slightly in an inaudible gasp when Ermal's hand moved to tangle in his hair. Ermal didn't want to let this opportunity go, and he let the tip of his tongue tease over Fabrizio's, over his lips, until he responded and pulled him closer with something close to a groan that died against Ermal's lips.

Fabrizio hooked his foot around Ermal's leg, and while never breaking the kiss, he let himself turn to lie on his back, pulling Ermal with him, until he was half leaning on him, their legs entangled. The new angle deepened their kiss, and their soft gasps filled the air, locking them in their own bubble. 

It was all new, all so unexpected, but Ermal didn't want it to stop, especially not when he felt Fabrizio's warm hands slip under his shirt. 

Minutes started to drag and time slowed down, until all that mattered were all the points at which they were connected. 

It was only when Fabrizio's hands moved lower, slipping past the elastic of his pants, and when he started grinding up his hips, that Ermal realized he should stop this from going any further. 

He let himself enjoy that kiss for just a little bit longer, enjoyed Fabrizio’s hands on him just a little bit longer, enjoyed the feeling of what he did to him for just a little bit longer, and then slowly untangled himself, lying down on his side again next to Fabrizio, the way this whole thing started. 

Both of them were just slightly out of breath, and they lay there, staring at each other. 

Ever so slowly, Fabrizio reached up and brushed some curls off of Ermal's forehead, as if waiting to be stopped. Ermal didn't, he let him, the motion somehow so tender after the passion of before. 

"Ermal?" Fabrizio’s voice was softer than he'd heard it before, and Ermal closed his eyes for a second to fight the urge to curl up in his arms and stay there. 

"I can't, Fabrizio," he said softly, closing his eyes briefly. 

"I'm sorry -" 

"No, don't be, that's not what I meant."

"What  _ do _ you mean?" Fabrizio asked, the question open, though he sounded slightly afraid of the answer. 

"I need to know that it's real, and after today it's too easy to doubt that," Ermal whispered. 

“It is real,” Fabrizio answered, the volume of his voice matching Ermal’s.

“Is it?”

“Well, we didn’t go to an Albanian restaurant first, so depending on how strict you want to be, it’s not,” Fabrizio said, his fingers tentatively running over the back of Ermal’s hand that lay between them, as if he wasn’t totally sure he could. 

Ermal took a breath, a smile on his lips despite the gravity of their talk. It was lightening up anyway, Fabrizio had kissed him back, and here they were, a chance taken that had delivered its rewards. 

“We can fix that, if you want to.”

Fabrizio smiled at him in return, hope shining from his eyes, a hope that Ermal could feel fluttering in his own stomach. For so long he had hoped, but he hadn't really expected anything to happen. 

"I'd love to."

The words made a beaming smile appear on Ermal's face. 

"Let's talk about that tomorrow?”

Fabrizio nodded, and then, in a move that managed to almost stop Ermal’s heart, lifted the hand he was still caressing and kissed the back of it.

“Sleep well, Ermal.”

And he did. With all the emotions of the night, and its almost surreal conclusion, Ermal slept soundlessly, lost in the luxurious blankets the hotel had provided.

In the morning, he woke up, blinking the room into existence. He couldn’t say what time it was, but there was light streaming in, filtered through the blinds, and the faint sound of people in the hallway. Some acceptable time in the morning then, he assumed.

Turning his head to the side, the side that was emitting a steady warmth that was somehow never too much, he found Fabrizio. He was awake already, his arms behind his head.

“Good morning,” he said, smiling, and the sight was something that really should be illegal so early in the day. But then, the sight was his, so Ermal didn’t really care. He returned the smile and greeting, and settled in his pillows again, to slowly really wake up.

As he lay there, with Fabrizio beside him, he realized something. He wanted to hold him. He wanted to be held by him. He just wasn’t sure if he could. Yes, Fabrizio had kissed him back, had said it was real, had agreed on a date. But that was quite different from cuddling in the morning when they’d only barely woken up. And besides, all those things had been yesterday… What if it had just been a side effect of the whole evening pretending? What if Fabrizio had changed his mind? What if Ermal wanted too much, still?

Ermal let out a soft sigh, though not taking his eyes off Fabrizio, who was staring back at him. He was stuck in this strange limbo and had no idea how to behave.

“What’s on your mind?” Fabrizio asked him, watching his face intently, almost searching for something.

Ermal just shook his head, causing a curl to fall into his eyes. He left it, it gave him a place to hide behind from Fabrizio’s gaze, and stayed silent. He didn’t want to voice his insecurities, he didn’t want to force the situation.

The lock of hair was lifted, though, put back in its place and freeing Ermal’s eyes, by Fabrizio, who let his hand linger on his cheek.

Ermal sighed once, softly. “You meant it, then?”

“Last night?”

“Hmm.” But here he was anyway, his questions laid open. Ermal stared at the ceiling, feeling strangely exposed under Fabrizio’s eyes, and he didn’t want to meet them. He couldn’t avoid them, though, as they suddenly hovered over him, Fabrizio leaning on his elbows, his face close to Ermal's, above it, replacing the ceiling. The sudden appearance made Ermal’s breath stutter.

“I did,” Fabrizio said, his voice warm and low, and it was impossible not to believe him. It made Ermal smile, some butterflies coming to life in his stomach.

Fabrizio returned his smile, his eyes sparkling as they roamed over Ermal’s face. They kept flickering to his lips, and they started tingling in anticipation. Last night’s kiss had been amazing, Ermal wanted that again.

Only, it didn’t come. Fabrizio just kept hovering and looking. A frown started on Ermal’s face, leading to a smirk on Fabrizio’s.

“I’d love to kiss you right now, but I haven’t been to the Albanian restaurant yet, so I’m told I’m not allowed.”

“Oh, shut up.”

“I take my promises seriously,” Fabrizio said, smiling and chuckling when he saw Ermal’s face.

“Well, why don’t we  _ pretend _ ?” Ermal finally said, smiling slightly. “Then it’s not real kisses, so the promise doesn’t matter, does it? The rest of the pretending we did seemed to work out quite well too.” 

Fabrizio didn’t do anything, so Ermal decided he would, lifting up his head and pressing his lips to Fabrizio’s in a short chaste kiss.

“Pretend.”

“Oh, is that what you had in mind?” The smirk was back, Fabrizio was clearly enjoying this. “Very well, then.” 

He kissed Ermal’s lips, even shorter than Ermal had, and then his cheeks and forehead, ending with his nose. Ermal couldn’t suppress a giggle, but really this was not what he had in mind at all.

“Bizio, please, just kiss me?”

“Bizio? Are we really going to keep that?”

“Yes,” Ermal answered, smiling, his heart beating just a little faster at that  _ we _ .

“Good, I like it.”

And finally, Fabrizio kissed him.

Like the night before, it was so easy to get lost in it, to get lost in Fabrizio all around him. It was better than his dreams had ever been, and somehow that’s what made it all the more real.

When they resurfaced, their arms still around each other and their faces close, Ermal decided to take another chance. No matter if he seemed desperate or too eager, he didn’t want to let this go.

“Are you doing something tomorrow evening?”

Fabrizio’s gaze roamed over his face. 

“Tomorrow evening?” he echoed, ever so innocently, and Ermal barely fought the urge to roll his eyes. Surely Fabrizio knew what he was getting at.

“Hm. Say dinner time?” He wasn’t going to spell it out.

“I don’t think I’ve got any plans, no.”

Ermal just waited, the question he was asking was clear, and with Fabrizio’s fingers still playing through his curls, he wasn’t too afraid of the answer.

“I’ll gladly go out with you, Ermal,” Fabrizio said finally, and something about the way he said his name, it sounded like a promise.

Smiles appeared on both their faces, and Ermal was just about to pull Fabrizio close for another pretend kiss, when his phone rang and manifested itself between them.

“Oh fuck it,” Ermal groaned, fumbling to reach for it while not putting any distance between him and Fabrizio.

“Pronto?”

“Hey Ermal, I was just calling to check how it all went. Are you home yet?”

Ermal sat up with a shock. “Marco. No, no, I’m not home yet.”

“Did everything go okay? Is Fabrizio-”

“Everything went well! It’s all - good!”

Ermal was not going to have this conversation in this situation, Marco wanting to know details while he was sitting right next to Fabrizio who could pick up at least half the words Marco said and all of Ermal’s.

“We’re just about to go have breakfast, I’ll call you later, okay?”

“Oh, sure. As long as you’re okay. Andrea already texted me, wondering we hadn’t heard from you. So we want details later!”

“Marco!” Ermal hissed, trying not to let his eyes fall to Fabrizio, wondering exactly how much he could hear and what was going through his mind now.

“You can come over for dinner tomorrow, and tell us then. We’ll have one of our nights in. What do you say?”

“I have plans tomorrow.”

“You have  _ plans _ tomorrow?” Marco repeated, and Ermal knew that his friend’s mind was going over possibilities, because both of them knew Ermal hadn’t had any plans when they last spoke.

“Marco, I really have to go-”

“ _ Plans _ , Ermal?”

“Bye Marco!” He hung up as soon as he could, turning the phone to silent to avoid any other unwanted interruptions, and dropped it in the covers. Then he was busy avoiding Fabrizio’s eyes and willing the blush on his cheeks away, and rather failing at the latter.

Fabrizio’s fingers found the hot spots on his cheeks, brushing over them. There was a chuckle in his voice as he said, “In a rush to get away, are you?”

“Just from nosy friends,” Ermal sighed, wondering if he should add,  _ not from you _ , though that was probably already clear from how he buried his face in Fabrizio’s chest, effectively pinning him to the bed.

“Breakfast sounds good, though, don’t you think? After last night’s dinner, I’m rather curious what fancy food they have come up with.”

Ermal nodded slowly, it was a rather good argument, but still, it involved leaving the bed, leaving the room. It involved facing the world.

Fabrizio tugged him up to kiss him one more time and then got up, disappearing into the bathroom. Ermal sat up slowly, his hands going through his curls. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and then rummaged through his bag to get everything he needed, taking over the bathroom from Fabrizio when he was done.

When he was dressed and ready, they just had to collect all their stuff, and they could go down to breakfast.

“Ermal, wait, your phone,” Fabrizio said, right before they were about to leave, and picked it up from where it still lay amidst the blankets.

Right when Ermal took it, his fingers brushing softly over Fabrizio’s - completely by accident, of course - the screen lit up, showing an ongoing thread of messages from Andrea.

**Ermal, how are you?**

**Marco just called me**

**You have** **_plans_ ** **?**

**Plans, Ermal?** **👀**

**Plans with Fabrizio?** 😏

**That took you long enough**

**Ermaaaaal 👀👀👀**

As soon as he could react, Ermal snatched the phone to him, another blush on his cheeks as the messages kept pouring in, so clearly visible on the screen, so clearly visible to Fabrizio who had his eyes on it too.

“Shall we - shall we go?” Ermal suggested, clearing his throat to make his voice work properly and hiding his phone deep in his pocket.

“Sure,” Fabrizio said only, but there was a smirk on his face that promised Ermal this wasn’t forgotten yet.

They took their bags and decided to take the elevator down. It was a slower affair than they had expected after all the other fancy surroundings, but they didn’t mind. Fabrizio caught Ermal’s gaze, and held it as he slowly stepped closer, one hand moving to Ermal’s cheek, the other to his hair, and finally kissed him, pushing him gently back against the mirrored wall.

They broke apart, but barely, when the elevator stopped at a floor between theirs and their destination, and the doors slid open, someone stepping in. They couldn’t with any decency keep kissing, and Ermal only wanted to childishly glare at the person who interrupted what they had only just found.

He looked up, but then stiffened when he recognized the man. His reaction made Fabrizio look up too, and the hand that still was in Ermal’s hair slid down to settle possessively on his neck.

“Hi Fabrizio,” the man mumbled, and nodded at Ermal, his eyes flickering back to stare at the solid steel of the door as soon as he could.

“Sergio,” Fabrizio only said, his voice polite at best.

Ermal could only lean into Fabrizio’s side, the warmth of his hand burning down, as the elevator went the last floor down.

Once out in the hallway, they followed the signs that promised breakfast, overtaking Sergio as they did.

And Ermal tried, but he couldn’t fight his petty side. Not this time.

“Thanks, Sergio,” he said, the sweetest smile on his face as he passed by the man, who looked at him with confusion.

Fabrizio looked at him too, a more understanding smile on his face, that was so close to a smirk again. Between that and Andrea’s texts, Ermal was a bit afraid of the conclusions Fabrizio could draw, but then, really, it was all worth it.

He had Fabrizio, and it was real. No one could take that way now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was it, the fic that was never going to be just a oneshot, done in four chapters :)  
> Thank you for reading and all your kudos and comments! <3

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this, please leave me a comment? :)


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